Lost
by Sirius Revenge
Summary: Based on 1-5 with a slight AU (He's alive!) Harry has been kidnapped! The Wizarding World is quickly losing hope, and the Order is right behind it. What will happen to the Light side? What will Sirius do at the loss of his godson?
1. How Harry Was Lost

A/N: I started writing this before Order of the Phoenix came out. I'm sorry, but he's just not dead. It wouldn't fit if he were. So I'm pretending that didn't happen. However, everything else fits perfectly, so I will say this is a slight AU, based on books 1-5.  
  
This is just a prologue, hopefully to get people interested. Most of this story won't take place in Harry's point of view.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Really. I wouldn't be here if I did.  
  
Lost - Prologue/Chapter One: How Harry Was Lost  
  
The luminous clock on the bedside table struck midnight. Harry Potter stared at it for a moment, and then turned to his open window. Sure enough, a small pack of owls flew into his room, one after the other, all bearing letters and packages. Harry smiled. He was now sixteen years old, and here was his birthday party.  
He opened his gift slowly, savoring each one. Letters of comfort and reassurance accompanied various books on defense spells, dark detectors, and a wand tuning kit. His friends obviously felt that Harry needed to protect himself.  
And with good reason. The Dark Lord Voldemort had gone public. Harry no longer had to search the paper for news of Voldemort. All his movements made the front page. Apparently, Dumbledore had made it clear who was in charge of the defenses. Most of it was going to Harry.  
He could no longer walk outside without at least two people tailing him. They sat outside his house, waiting for him to come out, and then followed him around the small town. Harry often waved, but never got any response.  
Placing his presents safely under the bed of his small room, Harry glanced toward the window. He sat at the windowsill, looking out at the night.  
Harry could see the glimmer of a single watcher. Other than that, the street was empty. Waving to his guardian, Harry opened his bedroom door, grabbing his cloak, and snuck outside.  
He sat down in the garden, looking up at the sky, and wondering what would happen now that Voldemort had returned, knowing he'd be directly affected. Harry wished he could forget the prophecy, and go on feeling normal, or at least as close to normal as he had felt, but he could not.  
Harry hated Voldemort. All the bad things that had happened to him were because of Voldemort. But to kill him?... Harry wasn't sure he could.  
Standing, Harry walked across the street toward his guardian. He felt that he needed company right now - whoever it was.  
He had a brief glimpse of Tonks's violently pink hair, before a hand closed around his chest and mouth. He felt a jerk behind his navel, and soon couldn't move to struggle, much less scream.  
  
A/N: Short, but a prologue. I hope to do better with this than I am with Mark Evans. I like it better, anyway. Please review, and tell me what you think! Thanks and answers will be in the next chapter. 


	2. The Aftermath

A/N: *looks around at the angry faces* What? It's not like this took a hideously long time to come out! Only... 2 months or so. Okay, I'm sorry. But it's much longer than anything I usually put out. This chapter is full of reactions, basically. I hope it doesn't get boring, but I don't think it will. We do need to see what people are going to be doing. This chapter will set up the coming year. I'm thinking there will be two years to this story – that's my original plan, anyway. I don't know how that will work out. I'll stop rambling now.  
  
Thank yous:  
  
Psycho-Monkey (the ever strange) – Thank you for reviewing, and I'm sorry it took so long. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I worked very hard on it.  
  
Wormfoot – Something about your review makes me wonder if you've actually read it.  
  
Tinabedina – Well, the last chapter wasn't actually a chapter – just a prologue because I had it sitting around, and I didn't know if anyone would want to read it. But thanks anyway, and I hope this is long enough for you.  
  
Jedi Sapphire – Yay! Thank you!  
  
Eric2 – Sorry for taking so long. Ah, I hate slow beginnings. I like to start right out. I like to do a lot of things that are considered bad writing *shrugs*  
  
Stefblack – Sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy it!  
  
Nefertiri Riddle – Thank you! Enjoy this chapter!  
  
SiriusWolf – Did you call me an idiot? I'm the one bloody well writing this thing, you think JK Rowling pumps out her chapters in a week? If she did, we wouldn't have had to wait three years for the fifth one, now would we? I admit her chapters are longer, but she just doesn't write that quickly, and neither do I. I'm glad you like it, but really, don't insult the author unless you have actual criticism (which I more than welcome).  
  
Lost – Chapter Two: The Aftermath  
  
Mrs. Arabella Figg was an old woman. She didn't have the energy of those little childish rascals who called themselves adults. However, she had her ways of knowing what was going on. One of them came bolting through the cat door in a hurry a little after midnight.  
Squibs tended to love cats, and Mrs. Figg was no exception. She bred Kneazles for a living. It kept her supplied, kept her company, and ,most importantly, kept her alert to the actions of Harry Potter.  
This particular report from Mr. Tibbles was dreadful. Harry kidnapped. Tonks unconscious. No other guard around. Oh dear...  
Mrs. Figg rushed outside, four Kneazles following her. They immediately began to sniff around where Harry had last been seen, according to Mr. Tibbles. Arabella rushed to Tonks, who was laying flat on the ground, eyes closed. When shaking her proved ineffective, Mrs. Figg tried to drag her. She didn't get far, and ran back to the house to contact Dumbledore.  
She picked up the mirror, looking at it suspiciously. She knew magic could do great things, but talking through a mirror? That sounded a bit too much like a fairy-tale for Arabella. Nevertheless, Arabella said clearly and loudly into the mirror "Headmaster Albus Dumbledore" The man immediately appeared, wearing the small smile he always greeted her with, and a nightcap. She wasn't sure why. He obviously didn't sleep.  
"How are you, Arabella?" he asked her kindly.  
"It's Harry, Headmaster!" She couldn't afford pleasantries now. "Potter's been kidnapped!"  
The smile was gone. The twinkle was gone. Mrs. Figg suddenly had a large urge to drop the mirror and run.  
She didn't, though, and continued to give the Headmaster all the information she knew. He thanked her, and she put the mirror away. Grabbing her coat, she hurried back to Tonks.  
  
~~oOo~~  
  
(A/N: This section is short, completely random, pointless, and optional. I'm not sure why I wrote it, other than trying to overcome a bit of writer's block. For some odd reason, I felt like including it.)  
  
Time: Some random day that summer. Location: 12 Grimmauld Place  
  
Sirius was humming.  
Remus sat with him, trying not to laugh as his friend continued on through his work.  
For Sirius, you see, was knitting as he hummed. He was knitting a sweater, as a surprise for Harry.  
"Err...Sirius?" said Remus.  
"Hmm?"  
"When did you learn to knit?"  
Sirius glared at Remus over his needles. "Maybe if I'd had some company last year, I wouldn't have resorted to knitting. What did you expect me to do?"  
"Uh...A puzzle? Transfiguration? Sleep?"  
Sirius blinked a few times, before returning to his work. "Sleep would have been a good choice, too" Remus laughed.  
  
~~oOo~~  
  
(A/N: And now we're back to our regularly scheduled angst.)  
  
They told Remus first.  
Remus was regretting his hard-sought after reputation of being able to comfort the distressed. He was sure Dumbledore had noticed this, as Remus had left 12 Grimmauld Place's basement kitchen without a word, and locked himself in Sirius's mother's bedroom.  
Sirius, meanwhile, was pacing the Entrance Hall, waiting for Harry's arrival, which was supposed to be that afternoon. There were many wrapped presents waiting on the kitchen table. The Weasleys and Hermione were to be over later that evening, after dinner.  
Remus walked to the door of the bedroom many times, sometimes placing his hand on the door-knob before changing his mind. He needed to tell Sirius. That was why Dumbledore had chosen to tell him first. They didn't want to tell Sirius.  
Remus didn't want to tell Sirius either. Remus didn't want to know what had happened himself. Remus wanted to be down there with Sirius, waiting patiently for Harry to come, laughing while Sirius paced the floor, blissfully ignorant.  
Sirius would pace for hours, convincing himself this or that had delayed them, and they'd be there any second. Then he would suddenly throw himself into panic, and race through the house to find Remus. Then, Remus would tell him. He wouldn't have to look at Sirius. He wouldn't be able to say it if he had to look at Sirius.  
Remus heard his friend's hurried foot steps earlier than he'd expected. Perhaps Harry's adventure through the Department of Mysteries had increased Sirius's protectiveness over his godson. It didn't matter, though. Remus sat down, facing Buckbeak, away from the door and bed.  
Sirius burst through the door a second later.  
"Remus! Where's Harry?" he asked, as though Remus should know. "He's late!"  
"Sit down, Sirius," said Remus. "I have to tell you something."  
Remus tried hard not to picture Sirius. They knew each other too well for Sirius not to be suspicious of something terrible. Remus heard Sirius sit down on the bed. Remus turned slightly, careful to keep his eyes on the floor.  
"Harry is..." Remus started, then his eyes landed on Sirius's boots, and Remus felt his stomach lurch. "Harry's been," Remus took a deep breath. "Harry's been taken."  
Sirius sat silent, then he shifted, and the boots moved up onto the bed beside their owner. Remus's eyes followed them unwillingly, but he kept them trained on Sirius's knees.  
"What do you mean?" croaked Sirius. "Taken where? By who?"  
"Voldemort," said Remus, raising his eyes.  
  
~oOo~  
  
"You must have seen something, Ms. Tonks."  
"All I remember is the Death Eater appearing behind Harry, then waking up here." She replied.  
Dumbledore sighed and steepled his fingers. He thought a moment, eyes boring into Tonks, then said "You are aware that, since Mr. Fletcher's, ah, incident, I have installed anti-apparation wards at and around the Dursley residence?"  
Tonks blinked and dropped her eyes. Dumbledore nodded.  
"I would suggest you leave now, Ms. Tonks."  
Tonks stood up slowly, staring wide-eyed at Dumbledore.  
"I – I don't – I didn't..."  
"You did," interrupted Dumbledore. "Now leave." He said, gazing at her over his half-moon spectacles.  
She backed out of the office, Minerva opened the door, and Tonks turned, head held high, and left. Minerva closed the door with a snap.  
Dumbledore turned to his portraits, all wide awake.  
"Please ensure that she leaves the school immediately. Report back if there is any trouble."  
Several portraits nodded, and hurried through their frames into their neighbor's portraits, and beyond.  
Minerva turned to the Headmaster.  
"Did you really install anti-apparation wards at Potter's?" she asked.  
"No," said Dumbledore, leaning back and rubbing his temples. "She'll figure it out soon, but that doesn't matter – she's already given away that the Death Eater didn't apparate behind Harry."  
"But what does that matter? Couldn't the Death Eater have snuck up on Potter?" asked Minerva.  
"Oh, yes." Said Dumbledore. "The Death Eater did sneak up on Harry, from behind. But Tonks must have seen him. She allowed Harry to be captured. She's betrayed us."  
  
~oOo~  
  
The room was dark – the lights had been covered with black cloths, and the curtains had been pulled closed to block out the remaining daylight – and several black-clad figures were kneeling on the floor. In front of them, in a rotting armchair, sat a man with pale skin and red eyes, glaring down at the shivering figure in front of him.  
The woman was surrounded by a circle of the others. They seemed fearful of getting too close. Voldemort spoke to her.  
"So, they found out, did they?" he said in a high-pitched voice.  
Tonks nodded, her hair turned black for the occasion. "D - Dumbledore knew," he said, her voice trembling. The circle seemed to hold its collective breath, all eyes swinging to their master from behind the masks.  
"That man... He would know." Voldemort stood, and all eyes immediately dropped. He thought for a moment, glaring down at his minions. "Leave me. Ensure young Nymphadora is settled in."  
The circle of Death Eaters nodded, and Tonks ducked backwards toward them, eager to get away. The others lead the way out of the room, and through the hallway beyond.  
Voldemort sat back in his armchair, thinking to himself. He had no idea what other talents Nymphadora might have, other than giving them Potter. Normally, he'd have been angry that she'd been found so soon, but she had served her greatest purpose. He now had Potter, there was nothing else to worry about.  
Standing once more, Voldemort glided out of the Meeting Room, out a door hidden by a black curtain. He felt the cold as he sauntered down the next hallway. Opening the door, he found the next room swarming with what had formerly been the guards of the Azkaban Fortress. A path spread between them, and Voldemort approached the small metal box in the center of the room.  
"Hello, Harry." Said Voldemort, laying a long-fingered hand on the cold cube.  
  
Inside, Harry was curled up, crying. Time and again he'd tried to reassure himself. He knew Sirius would come for him. He knew Dumbledore would protect him. He knew how worried his friends would be – that they would stop at nothing to find him. But every time he'd tried to remember, he would forget their faces.  
He shivered, and tried to curl up more. He had lost his glasses somewhere, but that didn't matter, because there was no light in his hole. He was cold, and hungry, and sore from being curled up, though he had no room to stretch out.  
Suddenly, there was a shifting noise, and blinding light filled his hole. He scrambled to cover his eyes, and forgot that he should try to get out. His scar had been burning, but as a hand reached down to pull him up, he thought his head must have exploded. He opened his eyes, but saw only black. Then, somewhere from beyond the haze, he heard a high-pitched voice.  
"Imperio!"  
Harry recognized it – Voldemort had him. Images of Voldemort, his parents, and Cedric flooded his mind. He tried to scream, but couldn't move. He felt something being pressed to his lips, and cool water slipped into his mouth and down his throat. It took a moment for Harry to realize it was his own hand supporting the glass – that Voldemort had let go of him, and he was now crouching in the hole, drinking against his will.  
He dropped the glass when he realized he was being controlled, and it shattered in his hole, spilling water and glass on it's bottom. Harry blinked his eyes and looked up in time to see Voldemort's wand emitting a bright silver light, then he was thrown back into the hole, the glass cutting into his shoulders and legs. The light blinded him for a moment, and when he finally opened his eyes, the light had gone, and he was shrouded in darkness once more.  
  
Voldemort left instructions for his Death Eaters to feed the boy at certain times, and left the dementor-filled room, back down the hallway, into the Meeting Room, and out again to check on his Death Eaters. Halfway down the second hallway, he stopped. Lucius Malfoy was speaking in a barely-restrained voice.  
"Idiot girl!" he whispered harshly. "Stupid child, do you have a death wish?"  
Nymphadora was sprawled on the ground, something ceramic shattered around her. She shook her head, staring wide-eyed up at Lucius and his formidable anger.  
"Then watch your step!" said Lucius, and he and the other Death Eaters marched into the next hallway, indicating that she should follow.  
Nymphadora shook herself, little bits of what Voldemort recognized to have once been a vase dropping to the floor from her hair and clothes. She turned to follow Lucius, still shaking, and bleeding slightly from her hand, and promptly knocked over the table near the door. She whimpered pathetically, and Voldemort stalked into the room.  
"I'm sorry," he whispered, raising his wand. "But I've changed my mind, little Nymphadora. Avada Kedavra!"  
  
~oOo~  
  
Arthur Weasley had never entered his home with such a feeling of forboding. Never before had he had such terrible news for his family. He stepped into his kitchen, and saw Bill, Charlie, Ron, Ginny, and Molly gathered around it, setting the table for dinner that evening. The family turned to greet him, all smiling and cheerful. Arthur had never felt so horrible.  
He grinned half-heartedly, and soon gave up. "Hello, everyone," he said. The room went quiet. Molly approached him, wiping her hands on an apron.  
"What's wrong, dear?" she asked.  
"Oh, well, I think we should all sit down," said Arthur, doing so, and looking around. "Er, where are Fred and George?"  
Despite herself, Molly pursed her lips. "That – shop of theirs'. They said they wouldn't be back here tonight." She looked down at her husband's pale face, saw how he would not meet her eyes. "What is it?" She motioned for all the children to sit.  
"What's wrong, dad?" asked Bill, sitting down next to his father, and laying a hand on his shoulder. There was a general muttering of concern from the other children as they took their seats.  
Arthur took a deep breath. "Dumbledore's just told me this morning." He said, staring down at the gleaming silverware his family had set out for him. "You see, last night, Harry was... Well, he was taken."  
He looked up at his family. Bill and Charlie exchanged looks of terror, but the rest of the family was still staring at him, pale, but inquiring.  
"What do you mean?" asked Ginny.  
"I mean, he was taken from his Aunt and Uncle's Home by..."  
"Dumbledore said he'd be safe there," Interrupted Ron.  
"We – We thought he would be," said Arthur, shaking.  
"That's why he wasn't allowed over here, right?" said Ron, his voice getting louder. Arthur knew he was panicing. He knew Ron would go upstairs in a minute, and write his friend a letter. He knew Ron would be in denial for a long time, angry at everyone. What Arthur didn't know was what would happen when the denial wore off.  
"Ron – Everyone – I'm sorry. It was, it was Tonks. She let Harry be taken. Dumbledore said she ran off to the Death Eaters this morning. She was a traitor."  
Ron stood up, eyes blazing.  
"Honey," said Molly, standing up, and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he shook her off.  
"No." said Ron, and he ran away upstairs to do just what Arthur had expected, leaving his family at the table. Ginny put her head down on the table, and after a moment, Bill and Charlie took her up to her own room to comfort her.  
Molly and Arthur looked at each other, lost.  
  
A/N: I thought, also, of including the Ministry, but I'd rather do all that at once, so I think that will be the next chapter. Alas, things are not looking wonderful for the light side. I actually don't remember how I planned to fix that... *goes off and ponders*  
  
Oh, yes, and if you liked this nice long (for me) chapter, do review. I like reviews. Reviews make me write more.  
  
One more thing, I will eventually update Mark Evans, but I worked on this one first. Sorry. 


End file.
